The leather-and-chain halter she wears does at least provide plenty of purchase for his claws, which will make it easier for him to stretch up closer to those sharply pointed ears. She nods once, and barks another curt, "Right." Otherwise, though, she saves her breath for moving, those ports in her shoulders sparking and sizzling as the exertion pushes her engine to burn hotter.

By the time they reach the van, she's putting off an uncomfortable amount of heat - not enough to burn, not with Dammon's plating in place, but enough that the circle of her arms is like standing next to an active oven on the hottest day of summer. She has to circle the van to the passenger side to have any hope of getting the door open without having it wrenched from her hand or slammed on top of them.

Not that she knows driver's side from passenger side, just which side provides a very, very slight windbreak.